Finally! The Pentagon today announced that the ban on women in combat positions will be lifted.

It's about time. The prohibition on women in combat served no useful role. Instead, it devalued the vital role already played by women in military service, and stood as a barrier to advancement for women seeking leadership positions in the military.

I've written about this before, and don't have much that's new to say, so I'll just give some short excerpts from a 2005 Los Angeles Times column I wrote on women in combat, and a more recent piece published here in Foreign Policy.

In 2005, I looked at some of the reasons usually given by those who opposed letting women play combat roles:

"Women aren't big and strong enough for combat." I'll buy this when someone explains why the Marine Corps will cheerfully accept a 4-foot-10 male recruit who weighs 96 pounds.

Sure, the Marines will make a man out of him, but even if they water the guy with Miracle-Gro, they won't be able to turn him into a 6-footer. The average man may be bigger and stronger than the average woman, but plenty of women are bigger and stronger than many men. Why discriminate based on gender when you could have straightforward, task-specific strength requirements?

In any case, in a war that mixes high-tech weaponry with low-tech hazards, being big and strong isn't all it's cracked up to be. You don't need to be big and strong to fly a modern combat jet, and size won't help when you're up against suicide bombers and improvised explosive devices. Why do we believe that bigger people make better soldiers? In Vietnam, an army of big, strong American men fought an army of small, slender Vietnamese men -- and lost....

"We can't let women into combat because they might get killed." They surely will, but so what? Women die in car accidents and from heart attacks, but though these deaths too are cause for sorrow, we still let women ride in cars and super-size their fries....

In contrast to the bogus arguments against women in combat, there are strong arguments in favor. Locking women out of combat positions makes it harder for women to advance within the military, limiting their opportunities to attain more prestigious jobs and higher salaries. This in turn hurts their families and increases gender inequalities in society as a whole.

Denying women the opportunity to take on combat roles also reduces their future ability to shape national policy. In the post-9/11 world, credibility on military and security issues is increasingly necessary for those who hope to succeed in important public positions -- and if only men can occupy combat roles, that gives them a substantial edge.

With the rise of terrorism and asymmetrical warfare, the distinction between "front" and "rear" has eroded. In Iraq, women in noncombat military jobs, such as escorting cargo convoys or serving as military police, are in harm's way....Women will die alongside men in any terrorist attack on U.S. soil, and women, like men, are affected by our national defense policies. It's time to give them the right to fight for their country.

These aren't the only reasons to cheer the end of rules prohibiting women in combat MOS's. In the age of the all-volunteer military, the services constantly struggle to attract and retain people with the character and skills necessary for military success. Even with planned force reductions, it will still be tough to get the right people. This is all the more true as we look ahead to the challenges of the future. As I wrote in September,

The U.S. military will need people with technical experience and scientific know-how. It will also need people with foreign language and regional expertise and an anthropological cast of mind -- people who can operate comfortably and effectively surrounded by foreigners. And in the 24-7 media environment -- the era of the strategic corporal -- the military will, above all, need people with maturity and good judgment.

These days, women are increasingly outperforming men in many areas: They're more likely to enter and finish college, for instance, and to get better grades while there. If our goal is to recruit the smart, mature, and well-educated people into the military, why would we want to have rules discriminating against half the eligible population -- particularly when it's such a highly-performing half?

So three cheers for Leon Panetta. His tenure as defense secretary has been brief, and for the most part he's been stuck with the thankless task of pushing for sensible budget cuts. With this announcement, though, Panetta has ensured his place in history: He'll be the defense secretary who removed the final bar to equal opportunity in military service. Well done, Mr. Secretary.

A retired Pentagon general who prefers to remain anonymous because of the election season shared these observations:

In the military we have what we call "tough love," and when you ask strong, decisive people -- women especially -- to work in a demanding place like Pentagon, that's what you get...and you are glad for it. 

"Tough love" isn't ingratitude or insolence; it's telling people and organizations what they need to here, versus what they think they might like to hear. In a real way, it is the highest form of flattery and respect; you don't bother to give to it to people and things that don't matter.

The best leaders understand this, and that's why they seek out people like Rosa instead of surrounding themselves with "yes-person" sycophants.

Remember that Rosa served in Bob Gates's Pentagon, and he readily expressed admiration for the "brightest and most innovative" officers who published articles that critiqued "sometimes bluntly -- the way the service does business; to include judgments about senior leadership, both military and civilian." Importantly, he added that he thought that this was "a sign of institutional vitality and health and strength."

I appreciate that some may find her military-style, no-nonsense directness unsettling, but that's simply reflective of the national security world from whence she most recently came.

Unadorned and even unfiltered candor is expected and welcomed in the high-stakes business of national security where lives hang in the balance. At the same time, she is classy enough to "mea culpa" when appropriate.

That she continues to exhibit her special brand of tough love after she left the Pentagon should surprise no one. Let's celebrate that she is who she is.

Sure, I don't always agree with her, but I would never question her sincerity, patriotism, or her dedication to making this country better and safer. She is, believe me, an equal-opportunity critic, so if one party or another thinks she they have co-opted -- or can co-opt -- her as to her beliefs and principles, my warning is this: tighten your chinstrap.

Regardless, if you really want to bring into government the much-needed perspective of the nation's most talented women, you can't expect them to forever after be ideological Stepford wives who mindlessly spout campaign talking points like servile automatons. No one should want that.

And I believe (at least I'd like to believe) that both candidates would want there to be as many "Rosas" as possible because their candid and insightful feedback makes us all better...even when it stings.

I asked readers to offer their own comments on the civilian-military gap, and their ideas for reducing it. Here are a few of the responses I received:

Jim Hanson, a former Special Forces Weapons NCO who writes for the military blog Blackfive, worries that the civilian-military gap enables the politicization of national security: although this "problem is larger and predates the current administration...it is hard to hear the stories from uniformed folks currently serving about how the political officials weigh in regularly on how national security decisions could affect Obama's polling."

I've seen some of this myself, and it's not pretty. It's certainly not unique to this administration, though: War has always been politicized. Intuitively, it makes sense to think that civilians with less understanding of the military might be particularly prone to politicize decisions about national security, but I don't know if there's any empirical evidence to support this. If you know of any, please share.

Meanwhile, several people wrote to suggest expanded civilian-military exchanges and educational opportunities. Capt. Kyle Borne, who's currently serving in Afghanistan, wonders "if having a 'U.S. Military' class in our nation's high schools might alleviate the growing
gulf between civilian and military." He worries, though, that some might perceive such a course as "the military...trying to brainwash their children."

I wonder if any schools (other than military schools) offer courses or units on the military, and if any teaching modules on the military are available for use by high school teachers. Seems to me that a well-done, balanced course on the history, present, and future of the U.S. military could be a fascinating window through which to look at any number of issues, from the changing nature of security threats to the role of the military as an agent of social change in America (think desegregation).

Matthew Colford, a student at Stanford, suggested that civilian universities might "consider creating week-long exchange programs with the military academies (provided the latter are willing). These programs would expose students at both institutions to 'the other side.' Were a civilian student to live as a cadet for a week his or her perspective would almost certainly change, for better or worse, just as it would for a cadet who attends a civilian institution for a week."

It would be tough to implement something like this on a large scale, given the small number of service academies compared to the very large number of civilian universities, but the idea of a pilot exchange program with selected universities might be feasible -- as would the creation of "mini" ROTC programs for civilian undergraduates interested in learning more about the military without necessarily having to make a multi-year service commitment.

Eric Anton writes, "I'm a company grade officer and have had the misfortune to spend a year in a deployed HQ." He suggests bridging the civilian-military gap by creating short "Military 101" courses for civilians who will be working with military personnel, and increasing the use of dedicated Liaison officers and Points of Contact for inter-agency planning and coordination.

Rebecca Ben-Amou, a student at Dickinson College, urges an increase in mid-career exchanges between military and civilian organizations. "It should be a requirement for Foreign Service Officers and members of other executive branch agencies to engage in [such a] 'personnel swap' before qualifying for higher-level positions."

My own top three ideas: 1) Develop a two- or three-day "Military 101" course tailored for senior civilian officials with national security or foreign policy jobs, and make it mandatory. People will whine about taking it. (Everyone thinks civilization will come to a crashing halt if they're out of the office for three days. It won't.) But a basic understanding of military structure, planning, etc. would dramatically improve the quality and efficiency of decision-making.

2) Increase opportunities for career military personnel to spend a year here and there in civilian institutions, and reward them for doing so. This idea has been championed by David Petraeus and many others, and the military has begun to respond -- but more should be done.

3) Increase opportunities for interested civilians at every level to spend a period of time working within the military. The week-long Joint Civilian Orientation Course sponsored by the Office of the Secretary of Defense is the right idea, but it's too short and too small. Why not invest in civil-military relations by creating month-long (or even year-long) programs that would enable civilians to work within military organizations? Make the program competitive and prestigious-sounding, and focus on attracting "influencers" and thought leaders from a range of communities. Start small -- maybe a hundred people in year one -- and assess and expand as the program goes forward, with a view to expanding it over time.

Those three ideas all strike me as feasible and relatively easy: that is, with a little will, significant improvements could be made within a couple of years. Longer term, I'd love to see this country get serious about national service...but that's another story.

In my last column, I wrote about the civilian-military gap, and asked whether the most common laments about it make sense when examined closely. We tend to think that the military is "special" in some way, and fundamentally different from other occupations.  I asked whether that belief in military "differentness" is justified, and suggested that in many respects, the military isn't as different as we assume.

That is: If members of the military deserve special consideration and respect, it can't be simply because careers in the military are dangerous, since there are other occupations that are equally dangerous that we don't view as similarly "special."  It can't be simply because military service often involves extreme hardships (time away from families, long hours, physical discomfort), since here too, many civilians have jobs that involve such hardship. And finally, the military's specialness can't be based simply on the fact that military careers provide a vital public service, since millions of other Americans also do work that serves the nation in critical ways, whether that involves teaching our children, building our roads, mining our coal or staffing our hospitals.

Some readers objected to these arguments, viewing them as an offensive implied comparison between military personnel and the likes of truck drivers or sanitation workers. But the comparison shouldn't cause any angst -- why should we regard those who do the exhausting, dangerous, and invisible work of hauling goods or hauling our trash with anything other than respect? Millions of Americans give their all -- their energy, their health, their time -- on cold, windy oil drilling platforms, in dark, methane-filled mines, and in decaying inner-city classrooms. Noting that military service is less different from such other jobs than many assume is no insult to the military. In a better world, we'd respect and honor all the Americans -- military and civilian alike -- who do difficult, dangerous work for the benefit of the nation.

But there are two key ways in which serving in the military is deeply different from serving the country as a school teacher or working in a coal mine.

For one thing, our nation, like some many others, arose out of war, and the cauldron of war has profoundly shaped our history. For this reason, the military is deeply linked to our sense of national identity -- to dearly held national narratives about where we come from and who we are -- in a way that is true for no other profession.  

No other profession has shed so much blood at the nation's behest. For members of the military, the shedding of blood (that of others and that of their own) isn't a strictly incidental part of their work -- something that could happen, might happen, but isn't supposed to happen.  Historically, the shedding of blood has been the fundamental purpose of militaries.

Some service members will never hear a shot fired in anger, of course -- and in my own experience, military personnel tend to be a great deal less bloodthirsty than the average civilian, perhaps because they've been forced to consider what it truly means to be prepared to kill and die. Most military personnel I know fervently hope killing and dying will never be required, that the mere existence of a robust American military prepared to kill and die will help deter conflicts, and ultimately reduce bloodshed.

Yet the fact remains: Even as our military finds itself moving into unfamiliar terrain (cyberspace, the information domain, intelligence gathering, humanitarian aid, development work), it's still the only public institution that's inherently defined by the willingness of its members to kill and die.

There's a second and related reason to view military service as fundamentally different from other kinds of work. However tough and dangerous their jobs are, loggers and miners and commercial pilots can always quit. A commercial pilot who doesn't like his odds can decide from one day to the next to become a realtor; a miner ordered into a situation he deems dangerous can tell the foreman to go to hell. His pay may be docked -- he may be fired and face consequent economic hardship --  but he won't go to prison for his refusal to risk his life.

That's not the case for service members. Yes, we have a volunteer military, but once you sign up, there's no changing your mind until you've fulfilled your service obligation. A soldier ordered to engage the enemy can't politely decline. Under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, disobeying a lawful order will land you behind bars-and desertion in wartime is still punishable by death.

When someone volunteers for the military, they do more than just sign on for a career that may have its difficulties and dangers. They're asked, in effect, to embrace those dangers, and from that moment on, to waive their fundamental right to preserve their own lives. The Declaration of Independence tells us that all men have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, but those who volunteer for military service effectively give up those rights. Once in the military, their lives belong to the nation. Their time, their comfort, and ultimately their lives are subject to the whims of their military superiors, who, in turn, are subject to the whims of elected civilian leaders.

In the end, this is why civilians in a democracy have a moral obligation to understand the military, treat service members with respect and concern, and try to ensure that military force is used wisely and only when necessary. Members of the military voluntarily place their lives in our hands.

I suggested at the end of my July 26 column that there's a pragmatic reason to worry about the civilian-military gap: When senior military officials and senior civilian officials engage with each other at the national level, a lot of vital questions just get lost in translation. Too often, that leads both to an impoverished decision-making process and to poor policy outcomes.  (I'll discuss this more next week.)

But the moral cost of the civilian-military gap is also real. Civilians have the luxury of voting or not voting, tuning in or tuning out, deciding to pay attention to the war in Afghanistan or deciding to watch American Idol instead. But if we -- through our votes, our choices or our simple lack of interest in events that feel distant and unimportant -- allow our troops to be ordered into harm's way, our troops have no choice but to go. Service members entrust us with their lives.

Is their trust in us misplaced?